"It's all right, Mr. Evans. It's a woman coming to call."
He opened the door, and the blonde gave him a winning smile.
"Hello. I'm told you have a gentleman staying here, Alexander, I believe?"
Mr. Evans looked at her questioningly, then stepped into the large drawing room where Sarah had thrust Alexander for safety's sake.
Sarah stepped forward. "How do you know Alexander? What do you want with him?"
"Why, he's my husband of course. My name is Marielle."
Chapter Thirty
Sarah stood trembling on the doorstep, shocked to the core. Her breath strangled in her throat, and heart felt as though it would give one final surge and burst.
Marielle. She knew the name only too well. Alexander had called it out in his sleep with a roar of anguish. Had quivered at the thought of her death.
"Marielle?" she echoed weakly, unable to summon any coherent thought as all of her dreams of happiness came crashing down around her head. The horrid words against herself came thick and fast: adulteress, whore, bastard.
"Marielle Davenport. And he is Jason Alexander Davenport. I ran into a mutual acquaintance of ours in Bath, and he told me the incredible news. That he had met someone matching the description of my darling husband, who's been missing for over two years. That he was still alive. Where is he? I can't wait to see him."
"In Bath?" Sarah asked with a frown, conducting her into her own small sitting room.
"Yes, I've been living quietly in the south-west, ever since my terrible loss. I thought I might take the waters for my health. I saw my friends at the Lower Rooms last night, and they were astonished that I had not heard the news. That Jason had been there for over a fortnight, right in front of everyone's eyes."
Sarah stared at the heavily made up blonde and tried not to feel completely inadequate as a woman. But the blonde's voluptuousness was palpable, almost offensively so as she sought to charm everyone in the room with her wide blue eyes.
"I don't mean to sound callous, but have you any proof as to your claim that you're his wife? I'm sorry, but we had some trouble last night, and I have to be a bit suspicious."
Her eyes widened, though she looked more vulpine than ever. "Trouble? I hope nothing serious. Proof, yes, of course. I have our marriage lines right here, and an old pocket book of his, and the wedding ring he gave me. My name is engraved inside, along with his. I know it's unusual to carry them, but I use my marriage license as proof of identity when I have to draw funds on a strange bank."
Sarah looked at the things coldly, dispassionately, as if they were meaningless trinkets and baubles from a stranger's life that had nothing to do with hers.
Except that Alexander was not a stranger. He was the man she loved. And he was married to this hard-faced blonde shrew. Married.
No, that was unfair of her. Marielle obviously cared him if she had been mourning him all this time, and had come as soon as she'd heard the news. She had on a wonderful gown, indecently tight to flaunt her figure, but she really did not look well. Under all the make up were dark circles under her eyes and a haunted look.
"Where do you hail from, Mrs. er, Davenport?"
"We live outside Lyme Regis. He'll be delighted to get home. He does so love the sea, and his prize roses, of course. I see he's done wonders with the vicarage garden. Your brother and Pamela won't recognize the place when they return from Scotland."
"True. They won't," she reflected sickly, thinking of their decidedly altered sitting room. "You know them, then?"
"La, everyone knows Pamela. After Bath and London and the splash she made there, and their whirlwind romance and marriage, how could anyone fail to know them?"
"And your sons? How are they?" Sarah asked, testing the woman further.
She shook her head. "They were brought the Lord's bosom two years ago, God rest their souls. Surely Jason must recall that?"
"He thought you were dead as well."
She tittered. "Bless me, no. I was ill, but-" She opened her eyes wide. "Do you suppose that's why he didn't come back home? Oh, the poor little lost lamb."
"You said home--" Sarah began to ask.
But Alexander, having heard a woman's voice, had concluded there was no danger, stepped into the drawing room from the study opposite.
"Ah, here he is now," her companion said, running toward him. "Darling!" The buxom woman threw herself into his arms and kissed him hard.
Sarah felt her stomach lurch sickly, and looked away.
Alexander started in confusion, and set her away from him. "Excuse me, Madam, but-"
"It's me, Marielle. Your wife! I know you've had a hard time remembering. Miss Deveril tells me you've had some trouble. It's been good of her to look after you for so long. Such unselfish kindness."
She gave Sarah a knowing look, making her feel ugly and small.
Sarah's hand crept toward her belly protectively but caught herself just in time before the telltale gesture gave the entire game away.
"I'm sorry, Madame," Alexander said stiffly, "but I have no recollection of being married to you."
"Captain Breedon told me you had lost your memory and were searching for clues about your old life. He thought you were cousins with Miss Deveril here. How sweet. More family. But your whole family, all of your cousins, will be so eager to see you."
"Family? Who?" he demanded.
She rattled on, "There's been another baby since we last saw each other. He has grown quite big now, and-"
He sucked in his breath with a hiss. "And why should I care? The last two were naught of mine! This last one just proves what a faithless whore you are."
The blonde looked momentarily taken aback. She gave another crafty look which grated on Sarah's nerves and declared, "But we've been through all of this. I loved you. I only said that to make you angry. I thought I wanted one thing, and it turns out I wanted you all along. The boy is yours. He was conceived two years ago, just before the French troops came to arrest you and you escaped. Then I fled to the family home, have been with them ever since."
"What family? My brothers?" he asked, his tone growing more and more urgent.
Marielle looked momentarily taken aback. Not that Sarah could blame her, for an angry Alexander was a truly terrifying sight. She didn't know whether to be glad or appalled. Or relieved that she had found out what he was really like in time--
No, he was nothing like Paxton or Ferncliffe. She was not going to end up like poor Jane. She was not.
Adulteress, whore, bastard...
She swallowed hard and tried to focus upon the conversation between husband and wife once more.
"Please, I'm your wife, Alexander. I don't want a divorce, and I don't think you would like to involve Miss Deveril in any sort of scandal. Not when she's been so, er, generous to you."
The threat was unspoken, but there nevertheless. "Come, darling. Captain Breedon has been kind enough to volunteer to take us home in our carriage. It will be a long trip even if we get started right now."
He shook his head adamantly. "I'm not going anywhere until we've discussed this further, and you've proven to me that you're Marielle. So the French arrested me? Where? Why? I need more facts than that. And you can't expect me to take anything on trust from a woman who has been unfaithful to me."
Mr. Evans shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. "I shall be going now, ladies. Mr. Deveril." He bowed.
"Thank you, Mr. Evans. Tell Tim and Edgar they won't be needed for the moment. They can go look in on Caleb."
"Yes, of course. Goodbye."
Sarah started to leave as well, but Alexander held her back. "I have nothing to hide from you. Stay."
"Are you sure?"
"I trust you. If you're certain, then I'll have to accept her as well. But you can see things I can't. I need your help," he said in a low tone.
He put her through her paces, name, date of birth, place of birth, religion, siblings and family. Almost everything she told them, Alexander was
able to confirm. There was a ring of truth to everything she uttered, so that Sarah became sick with apprehension. Her last glimmers of hope twinkled and went out. So it was true. This was his wife.
She compressed her fingers together, hoping the physical pain would block out the mental anguish, but the words kept repeating themselves over and over again in her head like a horrible litany.
Adulteress, whore, bastard...
She was about to lose everything, the man she loved, her home, her reputation, her family's status in the district, her brother's parishes if there were to be an outcry against her.
Her bags were packed...
But where could she go?
She would have traveled to the ends of the earth with Alexander, but he was leaving her. Going back to his old life... With his first love, and their child.
Adulteress, whore, bastard...
Oh Lord. Her bargain was a bitter one indeed. But she would not end up like Jane. She would not.
Marielle told him of his life as a merchant, his ships, his hobbies, his tattoos and other body markings, including his sixth toe, his broken rib, his shoulder wound. Sarah listened as she recounted the intimate details of their marriage, and felt her stomach churn.
Finally Sarah could stand no more. She took Alexander by the arm and said, "I think we've taken up enough time here. All that remains is for you to finish packing and go."
"But I can't-"
"She's your wife. You have to."
"You can't tell me that this is what you really want?" he pleaded.
She pulled him over to one side of the doorway. "You need answers, and so do I. Go home and find out the truth. You'll have servants, people to help you. I'm not suggesting you can reconcile your differences amicably. But at least try to pretend that you're willing to stay married until we can work out what to do.
"You need to face the demons of your past, and you need to be safe. Tell your wife and friends what has happened. Get to the bottom of why those men tried to kill you so that you and I don't have to live in hiding for the rest of our lives."
"Sarah-"
You know I'm right. There's nothing more to say. Just go. And when you have any news, send for me, and I shall come."
He suddenly said, "You're lying, aren't you? You're planning to give me up. To end our relationship!"
She sighed, unable to lie to the man she loved more than life itself. "I don't want to, but I have no choice. She has a wedding ring, marriage papers. Our love is an abomination in most people's eyes. Perhaps this is the price I have to pay for bringing you back to life that night."
He yanked her into the hallway, and closed the door. "I love you, Sarah. You can't think for a moment that anyone else means a thing to me!"
"Don't say that. You wife, your new son? They have to mean something. You're a decent man who keeps his word. I should be a decent person and keep mine. I made my bargain with God, remember? Be happy, so that it's not in vain."
"I can't accept this, Sarah!" he rasped. "I love you! That woman means nothing-"
"You have to go. If you don't go now, we'll continue to wonder about your past for the rest of our lives. Always hiding in shadows is not the way I want us to love. The way I would like to bring up any children we may have. You need to go now, and find the truth."
He could see the wisdom of her word, and nodded abruptly. "This isn't the end, Sarah. But you're right, I need to get some answers. Come with me, be my eyes and--"
"You know that's impossible. We would all be ruined."
"I don't care--"
"But I do. For you, and for our future. And both our families."
He heaved a huge sigh. "No I suppose as much as we love each other, even I can't expect you to share the house with my wife, no matter how much I need you."
"No, you can't. You'll have her, and other friends, servants to help you."
"But none of them will be the woman I love," he said in anguished tones.
She cupped his cheek tenderly. "It's only for a short while, just until you get some answers and we can decide what to do next."
"Sarah, if you ever need-"
"I'll be fine," she said bravely, holding back the tears, though she was sure her heart would break. "There is no call to worry on that score."
"But if you should find-"
"It will all be fine. Nothing for you to worry about," she said in clipped tones.
"Except a son or daughter," he hissed.
She cursed him inwardly for knowing her so well. She was sure there were really some things he could actually see despite his handicap.
"You're worrying about nothing," she said lightly. "Now go. She's waiting for you. I wouldn't want to blight your life together."
"There won't be any life together, not even for the sake of any child she supposedly has!" Alexander insisted. "If she asks me about you, I shall tell her the truth."
"And leave me open to scandal and ruin?" she gasped.
He ran his fingers through his hair in sheer frustration. "Oh God, I never meant for any of this-"
"Sometimes the truth is better left unsaid. You must go. If we stay out here any longer, she'll know we've been lovers, and will have power over us both."
She opened the door and went back into the drawing room.
"Would you like to help Alexander finish his packing? Or care for some refreshment while you wait? We can invite the Captain in too, if you like."
"There isn't any need," Marielle said, standing up and looking every inch a queen. "We Davenports are vastly wealthy. I'm sure there is nothing here that Alexander will feel the loss of. Just leave it all, dear, and come."
Her message was more than clear to them both. Alexander was hers, and that was the end of it.
Alexander hesitated, but Sarah led him to the door. "She's right. There's nothing you need here at the moment. Now shake hands with me and go," she added in a low tone.
"Goodbye, Mr. Deveril, er, Davenport."
"Goodbye, Miss Deveril."
She placed her hand in his and nearly broke down when he kissed it tenderly, and ran his tongue along the back of it in a most sensual manner. She pulled it away as though she had been burnt, and then watched as he shuffled down the path reluctantly.
Captain Breedon got out of the carriage to help Alexander into it. He did not make a very good job of the task. Alexander stumbled, and Breedon was not quick enough to catch him. Sarah noticed through her unshed tears that Breedon's jacket sleeve looked wadded up, and he was holding the arm stiffly by his side.
Her attention was distracted, however, by the simpering Marielle giving her a smile of triumph and a little wave.
"Thank you so much for all your help. I'm sure we won't be seeing each other again."
Captain Breedon gave Sarah a cheery wave and shouted his thanks.
Sarah tried to wave back, but could only manage a lift of the hand and an incline of her head in acknowledgment. She stood in the road and watched until the open carriage was no more than a speck on the road, and then headed for the stable to work off her upset.
She called to Jed to help her unhitch the waiting team which had been standing at the ready to take them north. She curried all the horses vigorously as he brought them in, damning Alexander's wife and Breedon at every stroke.
Why had the Captain had to tell her? Why had Marielle had to turn up now, of all times, just when she was about to tell Alexander he was to become a father? When they had been about to exchange vows...
At least they hadn't committed bigamy. But the child was something special that deserved to be celebrated. Even though it was shocking in the eyes of society, their love was a glorious gift, all the more precious for having been so unexpected. Their child was a symbol of that luminous love. But the joyous news had turned into a nightmare. And for what? A woman who wasn't worthy to shine his boots.
Now that was not fair. She was no better or worse than many of the other young women in their neighborhood. Why, her own sister-in-law P
amela had consorted with the most fatuous ladies, until she had seen them for what they really were, idle gossips in search of money and scandal. And Pamela had been deceived by the Earl of Ferncliffe, and had even admired Captain Breedon until he had shown what a fortune hunter he was.
The Duchess of Ellesmere, Charlotte, had been no better. She had been fooled by Paxton, and had consorted with all sorts of girls of dubious reputation in her bid to be the most popular girl in the vicinity.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2 Page 30
